Modern Hymns
by RoaringMice
Summary: Rodney comes to a realisation post The Hive.
1. Modern Hymns: Epiphany

_Warnings: Spoilers for "The Hive". One swear._

_Disclaimer: I don't own it, I make no money, yadda, yadda, yadda._

x-x

Rodney tapped merrily at his keyboard, his eyes riveted to the screen of his laptop, the one bright spot in the otherwise dark lab. He'd come in here - well, perhaps snuck was a better term - just after Carson had released him from infirmary with warnings to go to his quarters and rest. Rest, Rodney thought, frowning slightly as he worked. Being here, working in his empty lab was restful enough, and what Carson didn't know couldn't hurt Rodney.

He felt fine, all better, the enzyme having completely cleared his system. Energized, in fact. Rest was overrated, anyway. He grinned and lifted his mug, sniffing delightedly, then sipping his coffee as he typed with his free hand.

Rodney heard the door open and he cringed, expecting Carson and a serious reprimand. He turned towards the door and instead, haloed in the light streaming through the opening, was John.

"Teyla and Ronon have been released," John said, keeping his voice low. He stepped through the door and allowed it to close behind him, leaning back against it.

Rodney couldn't quite make out John's face in the sudden darkness, but he could tell from his voice and his posture that his teammates' condition wasn't the reason behind this late-night visit.

"Are you okay?" John asked from his position near the door.

"Fine, fine," Rodney said, nodding. "I'm good."

Rodney watched as John pushed away from the door and moved in front of him, staring down at the back of his laptop. In the glow of the screen, he could see his friend's face, and "You look like crap," flew out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

John ignored the comment and tilted his head, indicating Rodney's computer. "Are you even supposed to be working?"

Rodney simply shrugged, then lowered his eyes to the computer screen. He tapped a couple of keys with his free hand and lifted his coffee mug to his lips, pretending to be intent on his work when in reality he was waiting for whatever John had come to say.

"I understand why you took the enzyme."

Rodney looked up at John, surprised. He was not sure what he'd expected from John, but that was not it.

John shifted uncomfortably. "Hell, if I'd been in that situation myself...but that's not what I came here to say." He smiled oddly and leaned forward over the laptop, pinning Rodney with his gaze. "I wanted to apologise."

Rodney blinked quickly. "What?"

John stepped around the table and sat on the stool that was beside Rodney. Leaning forward, closing the distance between them, John added, "For the O.D."

Rodney frowned in his confusion and, suddenly anxious, put down the coffee. "What do you mean? I had to, I -"

John cut him off. "I know you felt like you had to take it. But -"

Rodney spoke over him. "I wasn't expecting that it would be that bad. I must have miscalculated -"

"Rodney, could you -" John said, obviously frustrated. Rodney tried to interrupt again, but John continued with a forceful, "Please, just let me talk, okay?" John stood up with such force, the stool spun a quick circle behind him, the only sound in the room the whirr of its movement. He started to pace in front of the table, four strides, a turn, four strides, a turn, all the while not looking at Rodney. "It was my fault you overdosed."

"What?" Rodney said. "No."

John stopped moving. "It was my fault. I..." His voice drifted away and he hesitated, staring at Rodney.

Rodney tried to look patient. When the silence stretched, he raised an eyebrow, and John smiled slightly.

"I arranged for Ford to give you a lower dose," John said.

Rodney's brow wrinkled.  
John spoke more quickly. "I needed you lucid, so you could work, and Ford agreed. So I arranged for you to have a lowered dose."

Rodney suddenly realised what was going on. "But didn't tell me."

John nodded. "But didn't tell you," he echoed. "So when you went to take it yourself, to overpower the guards, you took the dose that Ronan and Teyla were getting - the dose you thought you were getting, but -"

"Colonel."

"I'm so -"

Rodney tried to interrupt again. "John."

"I'm sorry."

Rodney rolled his eyes in exasperation. "It wasn't your fault."

"It was, and -"

"Could you not..." Rodney sighed. "Just stop talking for a minute, all right?" he said, frustrated. He took a breath, then said, calmer, "It's not your fault. Regardless of the size of the dose I thought I was getting, that Teyla and Ronon were or were not getting, I..." he took another deep breath and looked away briefly, then returned his gaze to John's. "I took more. On purpose."

Now it was John's brow's turn to wrinkle.

"I wanted to make sure, absolutely sure, that I could overcome those guards. I had to. And I did, I mean, it worked. For a while, anyway." Rodney shrugged.

"And then?"

God! Rodney thought, clenching his hands into fists. Hadn't he just been through all this with Carson? He stood, his chair flying back behind him. "And then I lost control. All right? I thought I could handle -" He stopped himself, surprised at the vehemence in his own voice.

"Would you do it again?" John asked, his voice low.

Rodney deliberately matched John's controlled tone. "If I had to go back, you mean? Sure, I -"

John stepped right in front of him, his expression intense. "No, for real. I mean now. I mean, if had it here, right now, would you want it?"

Rodney had to look away - there was too much in John's eyes - anger, and fear, and regret, and other things that he couldn't quite read. And -

And...

And God, would he? Would he take it? Rodney remembered the feeling, the initial rush, the sense of strength and power, but more than that, of well being, of lack of pain, any kind of pain - physical, emotional, just gone.

"I don't know," Rodney finally said aloud. To himself, he thought, I might, and his breath hitched.

"Even knowing what it would do to you, that you'd get hooked again?" John asked, his voice low and even.

Not looking at John, unable to, really, Rodney nodded.

There was silence but for their breathing and the sounds of the machinery around them.

Rodney looked at John after a while. "So, I'm off the team, right?"

John, looking apologetic, started to speak, but Rodney didn't let him, quickly adding, "Don't worry, I'm already on Heightmeyer's schedule for tomorrow."

John nodded. "Good." He clasped Rodney's shoulder. "And I am sorry."

"I know."

John walked away. As the doors closed behind him, Rodney shut his laptop with a softly muttered, "Fuck."

x-x

_Please let me know what you think of this. _


	2. Modern Hymns: Realisation

_Thank you for your reviews. Here's the next chapter._

_Warnings: Spoilers for "The Hive". Swearing._

_Disclaimer: I don't own it, I make no money, yadda, yadda, yadda._

x-x

Rodney paced the length of the dark lab in unconscious imitation of John's earlier movements, the feeble glow from his nearby laptop lighting his path. It was unbelievable - this whole situation, unbelievable. It was John's fault, at least in part, at least according to what John had said, and now it was Rodney who was off the team.

Rodney stilled his frantic movement. No. He didn't blame John. He couldn't.

He started pacing again, his arms and hands moving as if he were speaking aloud, illustrating each point with a sharp motion. The decision had been his, Rodney's, and he'd made it fully conscious of the possible repercussions of taking that much enzyme. But...

Rodney froze in place. But he'd figured he was already addicted, so...

He turned and stared at the door. He wondered, if he'd known that he'd been taking a lower dose, if he'd known that he might not be quite as dependant on the enzyme as the others, would he have -

He shook his head in frustration and started pacing again. Of course he would. He'd needed to get out of there, to warn Atlantis, and to do that, he had to overcome the guards, and to do that, he needed to take more of the enzyme, a lot more.

But that much more? Rodney stopped pacing again. And would he be this "Fucking obsessed?" he shouted aloud into the empty room.

He sank onto a nearby stool and sat there, staring off into space. It was all in the past, anyway. No need to dwell on it. He just -

Rodney pushed against the floor with his feet, allowing the stool to roll backwards. He just needed to figure out a way to get past all this. To get on with his life. To make John realise that he should put him back on the team, with Ronon and Teyla. No, wait - sure, they'd had lower doses than his last one, but higher overall, so they must also be -

The stool came to a rest against a wall, and Rodney sat there, unmoving.

He wondered if they were off the team as well.

He wondered if they'd still take the enzyme, given the chance.

He wondered how long it would take for this feeling to stop. Just thinking about the enzyme now, God, he'd, in a heartbeat, he'd -

Rodney stood suddenly. He needed to get out of there. Now. He -

The door opened in a flood of light as he stepped through it, leaving the dark lab behind him.

x-x

Rodney walked out onto the shadowed balcony, his eyes immediately going to the ocean. The lights of the city cast a soft glow over its surface, illuminating it despite the darkness of the night. He stood against the door, allowing his eyes to adjust as he stared at the water.

There was a movement nearby, and Rodney realised that someone was there, hidden in the shadows. He was about to leave with a muttered, "Sorry," when the person turned and the light caught his face - Carson.

Carson seemed a bit caught out and Rodney watched as he shifted awkwardly, one hand pushed behind his back. Despite the darkness, Rodney noticed a slow blush rise on the doctor's cheeks.

Rodney crinkled his brow and said, "Sorry, I'll just, um..." His voice trailed off as he noticed smoke trailing from behind Carson's back. "Smoking?" Rodney asked in surprise, eyebrows creeping to his hairline.

Carson's blush worsened, but he pulled his hand out from behind him, revealing a lit cigarette. "Filthy habit," Carson said firmly. "If you'd like, I'll..."

Rodney cut across him. "No, no." He stepped further onto the balcony. "It's fine, really." He moved to Carson's side and looked out over the water. He glanced at Carson from the corner of his eye. "I just didn't realise that you smoked."

"Occupational hazard," Carson replied flatly, taking one last drag before flicking the butt over the balcony.

"I guess I'd figured, you being a doctor -"

"That I'd know better?" Carson shrugged. "I should do, I suppose." He shrugged again. "Addictions are not a logical thing." Then he seemed to realise with whom he was speaking, and he looked a bit chagrined.

Rodney smiled slightly.

"How are you?" Carson asked, snapping into his doctor persona.

Rodney dropped his smile. "Fine."

"You don't look fine."

Rodney simply stared at him.

"You should be resting," Carson added.

Rodney rolled his eyes. "I felt trapped. Had to get out," he said quickly. "Couldn't possibly rest right now, after all that happened." His hands made motions like wheels spinning. "Mind running. Anyway, I had enough rest in the infirmary."

Rodney knew that his words were spinning out at a mile a minute, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. And with Carson there as an audience, he realised that he was a bit, how to describe? "Manic," he unintentionally said aloud. He broke into nervous laughter. "I can't seem to stop talking."

Carson's expression showed his concern, but his voice was calm. "It's probably side effects of the enzyme withdrawal. I could give you something for the anxiety."

"Another drug is the last thing I need. I'll deal." Rodney frowned. "I thought the withdrawal was done with?"

Carson stared at him appraisingly. "It seems there may be lingering after-effects."

"Teyla and Ronon?"

"Both released," Carson said. "I'll ask them if they are experiencing anything similar." He cocked his head to the side. "I think you should come to the infirmary."

Rodney took a quick step back and his hands came up defensively. "No, no. I'll be fine."

"You don't seem fine."

Rodney smiled, consciously trying to calm himself. "Just - the Colonel took me off the team."

Carson looked surprised. "When?"

"Just now."

"Did he say why?"

"Not in so many words." Rodney winced and stepped forward to the balcony's edge. Hands clenched around the rail, he stared off at the sea. "But it had to do with my taking the enzyme." Carson was about to interrupt, so Rodney ploughed on. "With my still wanting to take the enzyme."

"Ah," Carson said quietly, joining him at the rail. "Do you mind?"

Rodney glanced in his direction and saw him holding up a pack of cigarettes. "No, go ahead."

Carson tapped the pack twice, then lifted a cigarette to his lips. He lit a match, a flare and hiss in the darkness, and the end of his cigarette glowed red. He took a long drag and exhaled the smoke away from Rodney.

Carson leaned forward on the balcony, his arms draped along the rail, cigarette in one hand. "I'd imagine you're all in the same boat - you, Teyla, Ronon. All pretty well past the physical withdrawal, but each of you still psychologically -"

"Yeah," Rodney interrupted.

"You'll get past that. With time."

Rodney nodded, still staring at the water. He focused on the area where the sky met the sea. The sun was just starting to rise, and there was a faint pink glow along the horizon.

"I understand why he did it," Rodney said quietly. He leaned forward over the railing, looking down at the pitch-black water below him. He could hear the waves slap against the walls of the city, and he clenched his hands on the balcony rail, his knuckles white. A team is based on trust, he thought, and you can't trust an addict. Then, aloud, he said, "With me, Teyla and Ronon all out of commission, who's doing missions?"

"Bates' team," Carson answered.

"So, John's grounded too?"

"Aye, that he is."

"Good," Rodney replied with more venom than he'd intended. He turned to Carson.

Carson looked at him, surprised. "I'm sure John agonised over the decision -"

Rodney nodded impatiently. "I know, I know. And I understand, I do." He started speaking faster. "And it's necessary, I get it," he said, pointing to his head. "I get it. But punishing me for something he helped create, or at least contributed to..." He shrugged and looked at the water again. Dropping his voice, he added. "I know it's irrational, but it shouldn't just be me, you know?"

Rodney saw Carson nod beside him. He watched as the doctor took a drag, then exhaled gently, the smoke rising above him.

Rodney draped his arms along the balcony rail and stared out at the horizon. They watched the sunrise in silence.

x-x

_Please review and let me know what you think so far. Thank you!_


	3. Modern Hymns: Redemption

_This is thethird part in my Modern Hymns series, the first being "Epiphany", the second "Realisation"_

_Warnings: Spoilers for "The Hive". Swearing. Shameless use of Czech (translation at the end.)_

_Disclaimer: I don't own it, I make no money, yadda, yadda, yadda._

x-x

Rodney's fingers flew across the keyboard, the clicks of the keys the only sound in the empty lab. It was dinnertime on his first day back to work and although he was glad to be back, to be working, at the same time he was anxious as hell. He'd figured starting during dinner, when the rest of the staff was either going off-shift or eating, would give him the alone time he needed to get back into the flow of things without constantly being interrupted by a chorus of "Glad to see you back, McKay," or, worse, his co-workers' stares - basically, a chance to avoid the platitudes and sympathetic looks. He'd had enough of both over the past week.

He was reading through status reports and taking notes on his laptop when he heard the door slide open. He ignored the interruption, hoping the person would go away, until he heard John's voice saying, "Hey, McKay."

Rodney tensed and glanced up sharply to see John leaning against the doorframe. Immediately, he looked back to his computer. "Colonel," he said, his tone cool. He tapped away at the keyboard, trying to seem unconcerned.

He'd managed to avoid John in the week since the colonel had kicked him off the team, time he'd used to work with Heightmeyer, to get himself together, and to figure out how to live his life, post-enzyme. And he had got himself together - he felt a lot better now, not just physically but mentally, finally ready to focus, to get back to work. But now, with John in the doorway, he realised that he was still angry, ooh, he was pissed at the whole situation, at himself, and he just hadn't been ready to deal with John yet. And he wasn't ready now.

Damn it, he thought, his fingers hovering over the keys - he'd forgotten what he'd been typing.

"Heightmeyer tells me she cleared you for duty," John said from across the room.

Rodney simply nodded and kept his head down and his eyes on the screen, although the words had turned to meaningless gobbledy-gook in front of him.

"So, haven't seen you lately. You feeling better?" John asked.

Better, thought Rodney. He muttered, "bež do prdele," under his breath, grateful for that choice phrase he'd learnt from Radek. He didn't look up - if he did, he would probably kill the man. Instead he simply said, just loud enough for John to hear him, "Yeah, all better."

John walked to where Rodney was sitting and leaned in, his hands on the table beside Rodney's laptop. Rodney started typing again, nonsense, anything. He could see John's fingers splayed on the counter's surface, feel John's presence looming over him in the brightness of the lab.

John, obviously picking up on the tension, said, "Listen, McKay. I hope you understand that I -"

Rodney's head snapped up and he glared at John. "Yes, yes," he said sharply. At John's shocked expression, he took a breath before he continued, this time more calmly, "I understand. You really had no choice. I know that." With a bit of venom, he added, "After all, you have to do what's best for the team."

John nodded, looking uncomfortable. "Yes." He shifted awkwardly and pushed his hands into his pockets. "Speaking of which - we have a mission planned for tomorrow."

Rodney simply stared at him.

John raised an eyebrow.

Rodney found himself at a loss for words. Actually, he felt kind of shell-shocked. He'd expected this, of course. In fact he'd wanted this. Or he'd thought he had. So why wasn't he jumping at the chance?

John frowned. "We need you on the team. Teyla and Ronon -"

Rodney waved him off. "I know, I -" He frowned slightly.

John cocked his head to the side. "I figured you'd be a bit more enthusiastic."

Rodney hesitated, then decided to be honest. He exhaled, a slow and careful breath. "Yeah, I thought I would be, too. But..." He let his voice trail away.

"But?" John repeated.

"I understand why you made decision you did." Rodney pointed to his head. "I get it, but..."

"But?" John repeated, this time softer.

Rodney shrugged again. "It's like I don't get it," he said, and placed a clenched fist against his chest.  
John opened his mouth to speak, but Rodney ran over him, his voice quiet, his tone soft. "You said yourself, this is partly your fault." Seeing the look on John's face, Rodney continued, his voice getting louder and faster, his hands flying. "Not that I'd have done anything different, even if I knew about the lower dosage, and not that I really believe it's your fault," he said, emphasising "believe". "It was my choice, my fault, but..." Rodney knew that he was rambling and he rolled his eyes, pausing for a second. He clenched his hands in his lap, stilling them. "That's not it. You took me off the team." He gave John a cold half-smile. "And you weren't particularly nice about it." Rodney broke eye contact. "In your same situation, I'd probably do the same. But still." He sat in silence as he thought, trust runs both ways. I'd thought we were friends. He looked back up at John. "It's not a rational thing. I just need a little bit more time."

"Away from me?" John asked.

Rodney looked at him in surprise, then realised that he was right. "Yeah, probably. I think so."

Rodney saw hurt flash across John's face, but the colonel recovered quickly.

"Fine, that's all right," John said, shifting away from Rodney. "I'll see you later, then."

Rodney watched as John spun and walked away. As he got to the door and it opened, Rodney, using his name purposefully, said, "John!"

John turned in the open doorway.

Rodney smiled awkwardly. "Would you - in a couple days, would you ask me again?"

"Sure," John shot out. He hesitated a moment in the doorway. "I am sorry."

Rodney nodded, and his eyes followed John as he left. As Rodney turned back to his laptop, he said, "Yeah. So am I."

x-x

"bež do prdele," Czech for f- off.

x-x

_Boy, that was depressing. But sometimes things need to get worse before they get better. And I do plan to end this on a relatively positive note. Please review and let me know what you think so far!_


	4. Modern Hymns: Resolution

_Thank you for your lovely comments and reviews. _

_Warnings: Spoilers for "The Hive". This time Rodney swears in Quebec French. Mon dieu! Translation at the end._

x-x

"We getting closer, McKay?"

"Yeah, yeah," Rodney answered, not bothering to look at John as he responded. Instead, he focused on the device in his hand, trying to trace the faint energy reading they'd gotten as soon as they'd flown through the gate. He brushed an impatient hand across the screen, wiping away the moisture that had settled there.

"Because the sooner we can get off this smelly, hot, humid, slimy rock..."

"Here," Rodney said firmly, interrupting John. He stopped walking and looked up. Directly in front of him was what appeared to be a solid wall of greenery. "There," he said, nodding.

"There?" Ronon said, using the back of a hand to wipe away the sweat threatening to drip into his eyes. "Looks like a bunch of plants."

"There," Rodney snapped, waving an annoyed hand at the greenery.

"Still no life signs?" John asked Rodney.

"No, still nothing," Rodney replied, shifting impatiently. "But the energy signature is definitely coming from inside there."

Teyla looked to John and shrugged, then took a careful step forward, using her P-90 to part the overgrown vines. She triggered the weapon's light and peered between the fronds. "There is an opening here, Colonel. Some sort of structure."

"Right," John answered. He stepped forward, taking point, while Ronon fell to the rear. Pushing aside the overgrowth, John walked forward, the rest of the team following cautiously.

Rodney passed through the opening and was immediately hit by the heavy stench of decay. The air in here, impossibly, was actually damper than that outside, although it was blessedly cooler. He waited as his eyes adjusted to the low light.

"Wow," John whispered from beside him.

"Yeah," Rodney answered, looking around him. The room was huge. Although the ceiling was low - maybe only eight feet high - the room itself went on for...

"The structure must go on for miles," Teyla said from nearby, giving voice to his thoughts.

The only light in the room, other than that cast by their flashlights, trailed in from a series of small, narrow windows, really no more than slits along the edge of the ceiling. Those that still had glass were greyed with grime, while the others were filled with leaves and vines, allowing only the smallest amount of light into the large space.

Despite the dimness, Rodney could see a series of several shelves along the near wall, each crowded with dusty junk. Rodney stepped closer to the items on the shelves, and frowned. Even if anything there was of interest, with this damp, it was unlikely that any of it could be saved.

Rodney looked down at his instruments. "Hmm..."

"Is that a good 'Hmm,' or a bad 'Hmm'?" John said.

Rodney didn't bother responding. Instead, he simply stepped backwards until he passed through the doorway, and the energy readings were suddenly clear. He murmured, "There you go." He re-entered the building, and the energy readings immediately became less distinct again. "Something is definitely here, I'm just not sure what, or where." He looked at John. "Something about this place is dampening my readings."

John nodded.

"This place is huge," Ronon said, his first comment since they'd entered the structure.

Rodney grimaced. It took everything he had not to say "Duh". Instead, he muttered, "Welcome to the party," sarcasm on high.

John cast him a sharp glare. Turning to Ronon, he said, "We'll split up. You and Teyla, search this room. Focus on the items on the shelves. McKay and I will check the next." Rodney looked where John indicated, and saw a doorway on one of the nearest walls. As John began walking, Rodney followed close behind.

Fabulous, he thought bitterly. Just what I needed - more time alone with John. It was their second mission together again as a team, post-enzyme, and Rodney was feeling pretty comfortable with the situation at this point. Well, not exactly comfortable - he was still stiff around John, and he could tell that John also felt - but whatever, he was fine, they were working together, things were fine. And he was sick of thinking about it.

John lead the way into the next room, which was also large and seemingly empty, although Rodney could see a small doorway off to the left. He stepped to it and peered inside the small, dim space. "It seems to be some sort of storage closet," he said back over his shoulder. He glanced down at his instrument. "No life signs, that I can tell. And the energy readings seem to be about the same."

"I'll check out here," John answered. "You go on in."

Rodney stepped into the space. It was much smaller than the room he'd just been in. He sneezed. And mustier - he could feel the pressure build in his sinuses. Great, now he'd have a sinus headache to look forward to.

There were shelves lining the walls from floor to ceiling. The room was packed with them - there had to be over a dozen, with narrow paths, just big enough for one man, winding between them. Each shelf was piled high, crowded with this and that, the detritus illuminated by one small, dirty window on the far wall.

Rodney walked up one path at random and passed a cursory glance at the objects, just to see if there was anything of interest. He ran a finger along one shelf, pulling it away in disgust when he felt the slime and damp. It was unlikely that any tech here could have survived this.

Reaching the end of the shelf, he rounded the corner and "God!" burst out of his mouth as he started in shock, taking a hasty step backwards. There was a Wraith on the floor, blocking the path. Dead, obviously, with a large object, probably from one of the shelves, crushing his shoulders and head.

Rodney took a slow step forward and, with a shaky hand, illuminated the Wraith with his flashlight. The Wraith was quite obviously dead, but he'd either not been dead for that long, or else he was extremely well preserved.

Rodney squatted down next to him, careful not to touch. His eyes traced the Wraith's arm.

He wondered how long the enzyme would last, once a Wraith was dead. Would its potency be affected, or -

Rodney stood suddenly, shaking his head and muttering a soft, "No, no no." He took a step backwards and hit the shelf behind him, setting the objects on it to clanking.

Rodney stood over the Wraith and stared down at it, the room very dim and quiet around him. His vision spiralled down to the Wraith, his whole world focused on that one point.

"Jesus," he hissed between clenched teeth, his P-90 hanging limp from his hand. He started running through his options aloud. "I saw Ford do it, it seemed easy enough," he said, running through excuses, unsure if he was trying to convince himself to, or not to. "After all, I'm a smart guy," he said, his voice low but his words coming out in a torrent. "I could always rig my ever-present Epi-Pen. Or maybe something from the team's med kit. Take what I need."

He tore his eyes away, instead staring at the grimy window in front of him, unseeing. "But I don't need it," he whispered. "Not anymore."

"But what if later on, I do?" he asked more forcefully. "What if there's a situation where I end up needing it, in the future, where, say, Teyla or Sheppard were trapped, and I need..."

He shook his head violently, then stared down at the Wraith.

He heard movement behind him. "McKay?"

Rodney slowly tore his eyes from the Wraith on the floor. He turned to the door where John was now standing. "There's a dead Wraith here," he said in reply, surprised to hear his voice come out so calmly.

John's eyebrows raised and he stepped forward. He peered over Rodney's shoulder at the dead body. Taking a quick step back, he radioed Teyla and Ronon and told them what Rodney had found. Then he stood in the doorway, his arms crossed, his P-90 tightly clenched against his chest. He stared at Rodney, his gaze starkly appraising.

"You good?" John finally asked, a whole bunch of meaning in those two words.

Rodney suddenly understood that John knew what he'd been thinking. Contre crisse, the man knew. He glanced back at the Wraith on the floor, then full at John. "Yeah," he replied, trying to put meaning behind that word. That he was fine. That, despite the fact of what he'd been considering - no, that was a lie. More like he'd been trying to talk himself self into it, testing himself. Because, staring down at the Wraith, thinking about the enzyme, he realised that he never, ever wanted to -

"Yeah," he repeated again, this time more firmly.

John paused, then finally asked, "Anything here you can use?"

"No," Rodney said. His face broke into a slow smile. "Nothing at all."

John nodded, and Rodney could tell that he was relieved. "Cool," John said, his tone smooth.

Rodney gave a half-smile at that habitual, yet incongruously slangy expression coming from someone of John's rank and position.

John smiled back.

x-x

_That's the end. Thank you for reading! Please comment and review and let me know what you thought. _

_Contre crisse - A slangy Quebec French piece of profanity._


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